


Cultural Sensitivity

by cosmogyral



Series: Trollish for the Easily Excited [3]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-01
Updated: 2011-03-01
Packaged: 2017-10-16 00:40:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/166602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmogyral/pseuds/cosmogyral
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the prompt: <em>So Karkat and John(and the others, obvs.) have finally met in person, through various harrowing shenanigans. As it turns out, when John really drives him up the wall, Karkat is prone to screaming at him in troll. And John really should not be so turned on by this, but he is. So after the billionth time he does something about it.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Cultural Sensitivity

Where the problem begins is where it always begins, the moment in the tirade when Karkat has some kind of rageneurysm, and forgets that he speaks English because he is the all-powerful hissy fit god of their universe. He says something like, "You are the tanko in my goddamn hhe!" and John kind of wants to cry.

This time it's particularly bad because they're right in the middle of the lab. Yes, Karkat has scared and/or bored everyone else out of it, but seriously, the middle of the lab, teleportalizer right there, computers everywhere, someone probably haunting them. It is not a good occasion for John to have a linguistic party in his pants.

" _Engazze_ ," Karkat screams, that's a regular feature, and then, something something and something something fuck something if something. By now his English words are getting kind of weird, the vowels going sour.

"Oh, my god," John says, "you know I can't--" and here we go, Karkat lets out a long string of words that are totally incomprehensible, grating and buzzing and clicking, and can human mouths even _do_ that? There are those African tribes that click, aren't there? Maybe he could do that thing where Karkat's whole mouth closes and then a smack and his mouth goes wide and his tongue curls under and then it brushes the back of his teeth and yeah, he's still screaming and all, but John can't take his eyes away from that tongue. It's dancing all over his mouth. You'd think exposure would make this better, but nope! He's still getting off on what is probably something about how he, John, fucks hoofbeasts. That's it. Think about hoofbeasts. The pressure in his jeans lightens up a little. He casts his mind out frantically. Hoofbeasts. Roaming around Alternia with weird out-size faces. Cantering across the plains. Swearing at John in Troll.

Karkat's stopped, John realizes, and says the first thing that comes into his head, which is, "How can you talk so fast with those _teeth?_ "

"Wow," Karkat says. _Uoauohh._ "I did not realize I could hate you more, and yet, there it is."

"No, seriously," John says. "Don't you cut your tongue?"

"Not when I'm speaking _Troll_ , dipshit," Karkat snaps. " _Your_ language hhatha rosk iato erre."

"Fine, you know what?" John says, and launches himself at Karkat's face.

Those teeth are really, really sharp from the inside, too. John pulls back almost immediately, thinking, _consent! consent is sexy!_ but Karkat just makes a growl in his chest that John _definitely_ knows humans can't do and yanks him back in, both hands curling up so tight in his shirt John's a little worried about the green slime ghost. That is before Karkat gets his tongue going, and yeah, it's just as fast and bendy as it is in Karkat's mouth, and wow, this should be really, really unattractive. It's like they're tongue-wrestling. He wants to laugh, and also to keep doing this for the rest of his life.

Karkat is still growling. It doesn't seem to have anything to do with air.

John's mouth hurts after a while and he pulls away, just enough to spit out a little bit of blood. "Is this okay?" John says, breathless and suddenly totally freaked out. "Is this, I mean, it's not like, I don't know, is that--"

Karkat says something with about six zs in it. He says it again. He says it a couple more times, actually, before enough blood escapes John's cock to register that this is probably something important that he's ranting about, and that John should ask him what he means in English.

"It means yes," Terezi says, from somewhere behind them. Oh my god, how long has she been there? "Actually, it means, yes, yes, yes, yes, shut the fuck up, yes, but I figured you were in a hurry."

"Uh, hi," John says. Great. Now he's blushing. This is not indicative of his status as a sexy sex god of sex. "Um, Terezi, this is kind of private?"

"It's the middle of the lab," Karkat rasps out. "There is no word that applies less to this situation."

"But she's _looking at us_ ," John hisses. "What if you--"

"Fuck her," Karkat says. "Only, no! Fuck me. Do you need that again in translation, or--"

"Yes," John says, on a wild surmise.

Karkat looks like he's been hit on the side of the head with a pipe. "What?"

"Yes!" John says again, more firmly. "I need that again in translation."

"Uh," Karkat says. "Ahostarra."

It even has the thing with the rs. John kisses him _again_ , and this time he's apparently launched his face with enough force that it takes them to the floor. "Ow, _fuck_ ," Karkat says, and John says, "Shh, shut up, shut up, oh my god, Karkat," and Karkat, amazingly, shuts up, which is like, a sex-based superpower, and John decides to test it out again by saying, "Okay, okay, uh, take off my, take off my shirt," and Karkat says, "You're going to have to move your hands, asshole," _which is basically a yes,_ and then John shifts and he realizes Karkat's bulge is digging into his stomach. It's kind of like Kryptonite to his sex power, he guesses, because suddenly all he wants to do is make sure that Karkat gets exactly what he wants.

"Ahos," John says, and then forgets the second half of the word, and guesses, "tur ... re?"

"No, no, oh my god, what do you think you are, a vrassuvarati," Karkat says, "that's not, what the fumfbljrkr!" because John has decided that enough talking, it is now officially makeouts hour. His tongue is bleeding a little. More distracting is the fact that he is seriously dying here and Terezi is sitting right there, right there, laughing like a hyena, and he's just not going to come all over Karkat and his jeans right in front of her. He has pride!

Karkat hisses in a breath, and then, out loud, _"Szesze."_

Okay.

So maybe that was a lie.

Terezi's gone by the time he's really thinking about moving again, which doesn't stop him from blushing again. Even his elbows are turning pink. Karkat's staring at him, wide-eyed, and John looks down at himself self-consciously. "What? You're skinnier than I am."

"It's your _blood_ , you idiot," Karkat snaps, blushing himself. "It just -- It's all over you, okay?!"

"Oh," John says. He sits back. He thinks he might be smiling like a goofball. "You're in luck," he tells Karkat, very seriously. "I'm an expert in cultural sensitivity."

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Cultural Sensitivity [PODFIC]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/505932) by [Opalsong](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Opalsong/pseuds/Opalsong)




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